


Truth, Honesty, and None of the Above

by Ias



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Bickering, Dis is a mischievous little shit, Engagement, F/M, Fluff, Gen, Hijinks & Shenanigans, Humor, M/M, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 18:29:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4030177
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ias/pseuds/Ias
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dis's arrival in Erebor is a cause for great celebration—and intense anxiety. Thorin and Kili must introduce Bilbo and Tauriel as their intended spouses, and hope for Dis's blessing—but as it turns out, emotional honesty does not come easily to the Line of Durin. One lie leads to another, and before long Bilbo is masquerading as Thorin's bodyguard and Tauriel as Erebor's head chef, and no one is sure how it really happened (but they're willing to blame Kili).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Truth, Honesty, and None of the Above

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution to the Hobbit Big Bang. I hope you guys enjoy it! 
> 
> Check out thedeathchamber's fanart contribution for this story [here,](http://thedeathchamber.livejournal.com/19414.html) and dammitbenedict's fanart [over here!](http://dammitbenedict.tumblr.com/post/12021324591619414.html) Thanks so much guys, your art is absolutely perfect :>

"You won't be able to see them coming that way."

Bilbo jumped. His eyes had been fixed so intently out the window that he had not heard the approach of his latest visitor. They'd been coming and going throughout the day, offering smiles and good wishes and a lot more luck than Bilbo had expected to need for this sort of endeavor. Overall it had the opposite effect on Bilbo's nerves than he suspected they intended.

Thorin himself had been especially unhelpful. Not like that wasn't just characteristic of him—maybe Bilbo would have been even more on edge if he had been unusually accommodating, but then again, maybe not.

He stood beside him now, following Bilbo's gaze out the window to the winding road which led up to Erebor's gates. "The caravan will likely pass over the western slopes, out of sight from this window. Dis will not be over-fond of a large welcome."

"Is that why you ordered the whole of Erebor's non-essential labor to turn up to the welcoming ceremony?" Bilbo asked with a quirk of his lips.

Thorin shrugged. "It is traditional."

"For you to throw such an outrageous reception, or for a younger brother inconvenience his sister?" Thorin made no reply to that except a slightly exultant smile. Bilbo could never quite get a read on his relationship to Dis—it seemed very fond, but the stories of their childhood Bilbo had heard recounted could range from childish bickering to near-murder.

"You still haven't given me much idea of what to expect of your sister," Bilbo said, biting down on the edge of annoyance that threatened to slip into his voice.

Thorin nodded slowly. "With her, it is difficult to know. Even for me." He took Bilbo's shoulder and turned him so they were facing each other, tugging Bilbo's collar into a microscopically different position than it had been and smoothing down invisible creases on the front of his shirt.

"You look good," he said, rather stiffly.

"Well I should hope so, you picked these clothes out for me," Bilbo retorted.

"With your suggestions," Thorin protested.

"Because the first outfit you chose involved putting me in full armor," Bilbo muttered. It wasn't like he resented the implication that he couldn't dress himself for the occasion, it was just that he definitely resented it and thought Thorin was being a bit of a prick about the whole situation. But that might just be the nerves talking. "Really Thorin, all the mystery and, and high-pressure dress is really not doing much to convince me this is the passing formality you keep claiming it is."

"I just want to make sure that Dis approves of you," Thorin said, brushing a speck of dust from Bilbo's shoulder.

"Are you worried that she won't?"

"No," Thorin said a little too quickly. "I'm not worried at all. Dis may be the eldest, but I will not be cowed. I will not allow her to undermine this, whether she approves of it or not." He paused. "That being said, she is quite good at undermining things. Obtaining her blessing would be much more preferable."

Bilbo's eyebrows crept skyward. "Well that's certainly not comforting."

"I'm sorry. If it was comfort you're looking for, you should have said so." Thorin's hand lingered on Bilbo's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. Bilbo repressed a sigh. Of course he had to go and fall for someone who was so damn thickheaded.

"It's alright," Bilbo said with a wry smile, reaching up to run his hands over Thorin's mail shirt under the pretense of straightening it. After Bilbo raising reservations about dressing for the reunion with the same prejudices as dressing for a battle—was there going to be fighting? was that a dwarf custom?—Thorin appeared to have taken the similar hint and dressed down to something a little less than a full suit of plate armor. There was a tender note in Thorin's eye that Bilbo still had difficulty accepting was meant for him. "We'll be alright. Really, in the end, we hardly have anything to worry about."

Thorin frowned. "Why is that?"

"Because no matter what Dis says about our relationship, she's bound to hate your nephew's more."

That coaxed a wry smile out Thorin at last. "Well. She won't be alone. But Kili has made his choice, and I cannot condemn it without undermining my own. In the end, I suppose we each of us had little choice to make."

With a slight frown, Bilbo laid his palm over Thorin's brow. "There must be some mistake. You almost managed to be halfway romantic just then. I hope you're not coming down with something."

"Very funny." Thorin peeled Bilbo’s hand off his forehead and gave it a squeeze. A moment later he looked down at it with a frown. “Bilbo… your ring.”

“What? Oh, right.” Bilbo hurriedly removed the golden circle from his finger, moving to shove it into a pocket. Thorin stopped his hands, holding it up to inspect it. He’d created it himself, a thick golden band set with rubies the color of Bilbo’s waistcoat. Bilbo wore it when he was alone, always careful to take it off when anyone else might see.

“I hate having to hide this,” Bilbo said quietly.”

Thorin covered the ring with both his hands, staring into Bibo’s eyes. “After today, you won’t.”

A quiet knock interrupted them. When they turned, Bilbo saw an apologetic messenger lingering in the doorframe. "My Lord Thorin—the caravan has been sighted. Lady Dis will be here soon."

Thorin turned back to Bilbo with half a smile. "It seems Erebor is about to come under siege once more."

Bilbo returned it with a huff. "Let's both try not to nearly die this time."

 

 

 

"And you're sure this looks alright?"

Tauriel spread her hands from her body and slowly turned around. Kili, to his credit, stopped digging through his chest of clothing for long enough to watch the whole maneuver. "You look wonderful, Tauriel. You'll be the most beautiful woman at the reception."

"Certainly the tallest," she said with a wry smile that mostly hid her apprehension.

Kili raised an innocent pair of eyebrows. "Perhaps you could spend the entire time kneeling on your shoes."

Tauriel returned his look with a solemn nod. "Or you could walk out on stilts." They managed to hold each other's gaze for a good few seconds before they both burst out laughing, Kili's eyes creasing at the corners with well-worn smile lines. It was enough to warm her heart against the tremors of anxiety which had been shooting through her all morning, as she settled down on the bed to watch him return to foraging through his wardrobe.

"It's me you should be worried about," he tossed over his shoulder with a slightly less exuberant smile. For the past two weeks he had laid out an elaborate outfit and thought nothing more of it; now, at the last second, he had become utterly intent on changing it. Cotton shirts and decorative medallions rained down around him as he burrowed to the bottom of his available options.

"Nothing's the right color," he muttered, wringing an orange tunic between his hands. "Everything's all wrinkled… Mahal, what am I to wear?"

Tauriel rose off the bed and walked over to him. "You are her son," she said, kneeling on the stones beside him to tilt his face towards hers with a hand on his cheek. "And she hasn't been with in many months. She will be pleased to see you, no matter what you are wearing."

Kili covered her hand with his own and summoned a reluctant smile. "You're right, I suppose. And I know she'll be pleased with you too. Even if it takes some…convincing."

Tauriel sighed and leaned back, her eyes trailing into distant and unpleasant memories. "Yes, well, after the reception our engagement received from your uncle, I am slightly less than confident."

"If it makes you feel any better, I don't think this introduction could possibly go any worse," Kili said.

"Remarkably it doesn't," she said dryly.

"This time will be much different," Kili amended. "Thorin has come round about us, or at the very least has agreed to help win Dis over for us." He frowned slightly. "Or at least, not to actively undercut us. But once she sees that Thorin is moderately on our side, she has to give us her blessing."

It's an unspoken fact that Dis must do no such thing. Kili was lucky that he had the opportunity to get on his mother's good side; Tauriel would likely not have that luxury. The main factor which would most surely work against Tauriel winning her favor was the one thing she couldn't change: she was an elf. Dis was bound to notice.

 

 

 

Bilbo kept pace with Thorin as they made their way to the reception chamber. The parts of Erebor they travelled through now bore little resemblance to the city they had found under the talons of a sleeping dragon. Decades of dust and ash had been cleared away to reveal the smooth, polished hues of the stone below, and the darkness had been banished with the glow of lanterns and reflected sunlight. There were places where the destruction was not so easily repaired, gashes along the walls were once massive claws had carelessly raked over them. Those spots were covered with tapestries now, but Bilbo still felt the weight of their presences as they passed by.

"So your sister's a lot like you, then?" Bilbo asked as they walked. The closer they got to the entrance, the harder his heart began to beat.

Thorin cast him a look out of the corner of his eye. "How do you mean?"

Bilbo could have applied any number of adjectives: stubborn, reserved, zealous, bold. But at this point he hardly had a good last-minute bicker in him. "Erm…stately?"

Thorin was quiet for a moment. "You think I'm stately?"

"Sure," Bilbo allowed, well aware that he was going to be hearing about that again. "Is Dis? If she raised Fili and Kili she must have been stern enough to keep them in line.”

Thorin laughed bitterly. "Stern? Hardly. She practically encouraged them."

Well, that was unexpected.

"I suppose my sister and I have our similarities," Thorin continued thoughtfully, "but we also have our differences."

Bilbo waited expectantly for him to continue. He did not. "Oh. Well then. That's quite helpful," Bilbo said sarcastically. But Thorin was too bent on his own preoccupations to respond. Bilbo sighed, wishing he could reach out and take Thorin’s hand.  

They stepped through a doorway into a room flooded with natural light. It stretched out as high and broad as a cathedral, with an ornately designed carpet rolling down the center towards the gates which must have been fifty times Bilbo's height. They had been flung open to allow the cool light of a cloudy day to pour inside. When Bilbo saw the crowd that had gathered, his heart dropped a couple notches in his chest.

The whole room save the center isle was milling with guests, like a colorful living sea sloshing up around the pillars. Bearded faces and inquisitive eyes stared out towards the patch of white-grey sky visible through the doors where the newcomers would soon be arriving. Bilbo wasn't sure what he was expecting, just that it wasn't this.

"There are a lot of people here," Bilbo hissed into Thorin's ear as they continued up onto the platform overlooking them all.

"All the more reason why Dis will have to accept you and the elf graciously," Thorin muttered back. Bilbo bit down a question on what would happen if she didn't accept it graciously. He had a feeling he didn't want to know.

Those that saw Thorin pass smiled or cheered, some of those more familiar with him coming forward to speak in quick spurts of Khuzdul. They rarely had anything but looks or curiosity for Bilbo. He tried not to let it bother him; he knew he was an outsider, and that his relationship to Thorin was steeped in rumors, his favorite being that he was a spy sent to seize power for the hobbits in the Shire. He'd gotten a good laugh out of that when Nori had told him. Thorin assured him that in time he would be accepted, beloved even, but if this cold courtesy was all that the past few months had earned him he did not like to think what judgments Dis would make in the span of a couple minutes. And of course, he was still doing better than the other royal consort Dis would be meeting today.

Fili, Kili, and Tauriel were waiting for them, hanging back on the dais on the opposite end of the room from the gates. Though many came forward to the princes just as they had to Thorin, Tauriel was given a wide berth. Bilbo could see on her face that it bothered her, though it was mostly evident in the strain around her eyes. Strangely enough, the nervous flicker in their eyes was a bit of a reassurance to Bilbo—at least he wasn't alone in his anxiety. After so long spent around Thorin, who often was as difficult to read as the moth-eaten scrolls of Khuzdul in the royal library, it was nice to see a bit of uncloaked fear.

"Uncle," Kili said with a smile that Fili shared as they approached. Thorin clasped their shoulders fondly before turning to Tauriel. Her face was plastered with a serene smile that to the dwarves must have looked like a typical elf expression of reserve, but Bilbo suspected it was a mask to hide the nervousness they all must be feeling. Kili must have convinced one of the craftsmen to make some elf-sized clothing—she wore a coat of bronze mail under a chest piece which managed to look as sleek as elvish work while incorporated dwarvish symbols. Her cloak was forest green and trimmed with brown fur, to match the green jerkin Kili wore. It was a look which exuded beauty, certainly, but not weakness. She looked as if she would be ready to spring into a fight at a moment's notice, which, once Dis learned who she was, might even be necessarily. In his stiff shirt and heavy overcoat, Bilbo idly thought about how he'd probably just be slaughtered where he stood.

When Thorin's gaze arrived on Tauriel, she tilted her head in a gesture which was clearly meant to be respectful but not subservient.

"Dis may not take kindly to you at first," Thorin said after a moment. "You would do well not to show her any disrespect, as tempting as the prospect might become."

"I suppose I will manage somehow," Tauriel said with a faintly ironic smile.

Thorin nodded curtly before his eyes settled back on Bilbo. "I am going to go speak to some of my advisors," he said quietly. "Are you alright here?"

"I'm fine," Bilbo said, reaching out to give Thorin's hand a brief and furtive squeeze. Thorin returned it more fervently than Bilbo had expected, clinging to him like a raft at sea. There was an edge of nervousness in Thorin's eyes before he broke away that seemed to jab Bilbo in the chest. He wished he could offer some further gesture of comfort other than a reassuring smile, but Thorin was already pulling away. Bilbo watched his receding back with a sinking in his heart.

Fighting down the nerves, he turned to take his place by Tauriel as they waited. Bilbo could feel the weight of many eyes upon them without looking. For someone accustomed to living their life weaving in the shadows of the forest, Tauriel was handling it very well. Without looking up at her, he murmured, "Nervous?"

She glanced down at him, the smooth expression hardly faltering. "Very. You?"

"Oh, utterly terrified," Bilbo said. They both laughed quietly—it was nice to see Tauriel's mask crack enough to let some genuine emotion. He stared up at her in sympathy. "You shouldn't smile like that, you know."

She raised her eyebrows. "Oh, so now I am even smiling incorrectly?"

"No—well, yes." Bilbo faltered. "You know Dis will expect you to be cool and reserved. I doubt either of us will win ourselves any favor with cold courtesy."

"Should I pick her up and smash our heads together like the dwarves do?" Tauriel shot back, but Bilbo could see her release the edges of her mouth ever so slightly. While the two of them came from two wildly different worlds, they had bonded over the mutual experience of being plunged into dwarvish culture. They were both outsiders, though Bilbo certainly had the benefit of not being openly hated by default.

"How's your dwarf?" he asked with a wry smile.

Tauriel smiled. "Always the optimist. He wants very much to secure Dis's blessing." She looked meaningfully after Thorin. "How's yours?"

"Ha, well," he said with a tired smile. "I've seen Thorin angry, sullen, afraid even, but never actually _nervous_ before."

Tauriel stared after Thorin with a skeptical look. "He is nervous? I never would have been able to tell." Her eyes turned to the open gateway. "If our stoic monarch is worried, that can hardly be a good sign."

"Perhaps not," Bilbo said. "Thorin insists that everything is fine, but I can tell he wants this meeting to go well. He was not specific as to what would happen if it didn't."

"That is not entirely encouraging."

"Ah, nothing like waiting for a parent to arrive and criticize your life decisions," Kili quipped as he and his brother sidled up to them.

"I for one am looking forward to seeing our mother for the first time in over a year," Fili said with an air of moral authority.

Kili jammed his elbows into Fili's ribs. "That's because you have nothing for her to be angry about."

"It's not my fault I have the good sense not to go chasing after beardless outsiders," Fili retorted.

"You couldn't woo one if you tried," Kili said indignantly.

"Oh, I don't know," Fili said with a casual shrug. "That Bard fellow's pretty handsome."

Kili's eyes nearly popped out of his head before Fili burst out laughing, slapping his younger brother on the back and receiving a hard swat on the shoulder in reprimand. "You always were the gullible one."

"Boys, behave yourself." The sound of Balin's voice was music to Bilbo's ears as the older dwarf stepped out onto the dais. Dwalin followed shortly after, the rest of the company on his heels. The shock of seeing them all in silks and velvets and armor that wasn't splattered with grime still hadn't worn off.

"It's good to see you, Balin," Bilbo said with feeling. With the older dwarf here, everything seemed less likely to go up in a burst of hopefully metaphorical flames.

Balin chuckled as the rest of the company took their places on the dais. "I would hardly have missed the opportunity to see brother and sister reunited. I daresay it will be a spectacle at the very least."

"Erm, what do you mean by that exactly?" Bilbo asked, apprehension rearing its head again, but Balin's eyes had wandered towards the open gateway.

"It appears we have arrived just in time," he murmured as he took his place with the rest of the company.

The watchmen at their posts outside were engaged in some emphatic gesturing. An expectant hush had fallen over the crowds closest to the door, loud voices replaced with excited whispers. Bilbo felt a prickle of anticipation skitter over the back of his neck. Someone was coming.

Thorin took his place at the center of the platform, looking regal with his hands clasped behind his back and his chin held high. Fili and Kili flanked him on either side, the resemblance to their uncle never more apparent. His thick clothes hid any lines of tension that Bilbo suspected were there. In that moment, no one could have doubted his authority as king.

A ripple of movement just over the rise soon resolved itself into a line of dwarves and mules ambling their way up the path. As they came closer Bilbo could see the dirt and wear of the road had dulled their clothing and armor, but their faces were alight with awe. They crossed the threshold to the sound of trumpets and shouts from the crowd, the newcomers’ eyes raking over the walls as if they could finally see. It gave Bilbo a pang in the corner of his heart that still longed for Bag End. He knew what it was the long for home, even when he had found happiness here.

He caught Thorin's eyes scanning the crowd, a faint frown growing on his face. As the last of the procession cleared the entryway, Kili leaned in behind Thorin's back to whisper something in Fili's ear. The flutter of anxiety in Bilbo's chest grew stronger. He knew something was wrong, but not what.

As the crowd of newcomers came to a halt below the stairs leading up to the platform, Thorin stepped forward. The air felt as tense as the skin of a drum, ready for a single word to send it shaking. In the waiting silence, Thorin spoke.

"My friends: welcome home."

Few words, but Bilbo knew no more were needed. The hall exploded into a riot of cheers and shouts as the crowd rushed forward to embrace the travelers, family members seeking each other out after months of absence. Tears ran into beards, laughter rang out unrestrained. Even Tauriel looked moved by the scene.

A single dwarf ran up the stairs from the commotion below and approached Thorin with a bow. A few words were exchanged that Bilbo could not hear—all he saw was the look of shock, followed by anger on Thorin's face. Seconds later the king was striding towards them with his nephews close behind, looking not unlike he might have if Thranduil himself had stepped into Erebor. Balin converged on the group with a look of concern.

"Dis isn't here," Thorin said sharply.

An entirely different knot of fear tightened around Bilbo's heart. "What happened? Is she harmed?"

"Not for now," Thorin said. "She's already here."

"How is that possible?" Kili asked.

"Apparently she went ahead of the central company and went through one of the side gates—" He broke off into some guttural words of Khuzdul, which Bilbo could hardly imagine being complimentary. "This is just like her."

"Yes, it's almost as if we should have expected your sister to avoid the enormous greeting you were holding just to spite her," Balin said wryly. When Thorin looked likely to blow off the handle, Balin dwarf laid a hand on his shoulder. "Go. The lads and I will hold things down for you here. Your sister deserves a proper welcome."

After a steadying breath, Thorin nodded. He laid a hand on Bilbo's back and guided him back towards the tunnels. Fili, Kili and Tauriel followed suit.

"We'll find her in her quarters," Thorin muttered as they walked, his pace quickening down the halls without him seeming to notice. "We'll do the proper greetings, perform the introductions, and all will be well. Yes. All will work perfectly."

"Ah, Thorin," Bilbo said, his feet skidding over the stones in an effort to keep pace. "The walking along muttering to yourself that everything is going to be okay is a little unnerving."

"It's all fine!" he snapped, implying the opposite. He was hardly taking Bilbo's shorter legs into account, for Thorin seemed on the cusp of breaking into a dead run.

With a frown and a short nod, Bilbo fell back a few paces to walk with Kili and Tauriel. Clearly Thorin was not in a talking mood. The Shire might not see much danger, but dealing with relatives was what he did best—and he had to admit, he thought even Thorin was going a bit overboard.

 "Seems like mom has foiled Thorin once again," Kili said with a sly grin. "Not like this is the first time something like this has happened. I'm surprised Thorin is taking it so well."

"This is taking it _well?_ " Tauriel said in disbelief.  The calm she had exuded in the entrance hall had been replaced with a hard mouth and a tense posture, her hand gripping Kili's shoulder as they walked.

"It seems we're playing on Dis's terms now," Bilbo replied. "Just as she planned, I'd imagine."

"I suppose now that we're not meeting her in public it will be easier for her to murder us all," Kili muttered. "No witnesses."

"Does that mean I get to be king, then?" Fili said with mock cheeriness.

"Mahal save us," Kili groaned. "Bilbo, protect Thorin at all costs."

Before Bilbo could reply, Thorin came to a sudden halt in front of a set of broad doors. Bilbo noted that Dis had moved straight in to the royal quarters. Another gesture, or just protocol? Thorin shot a glance over his shoulder, taking in his nephews, Tauriel, and settling at last on Bilbo. With a quirk of his lips Bilbo nodded that he was ready. The doors swung open under Thorin's palms.

This section of the quarter hadn't been properly cleaned yet—a thick layer of rock dust still lay on most of the furniture, and thick spiderwebs gathered in the corners. Thorin stopped in the doorway, bottlenecking the rest of his party behind him.

"Ah," a voice said. "Brother. So glad you finally made it."

When Bilbo peered surreptitiously around Thorin he saw a dwarf woman in the middle of what appeared to be a sitting room, her feet propped up on a slow table as she slowly tugged off her boots.  A wide grin was plastered across her face. Bilbo recognized it instantly. Kili and Fili had the exact same expression whenever they'd done something especially cheeky.

"Dis," Thorin said, his voice slightly hoarse. "I expected you in the main hall."

"I know you did. That's why I avoided it," Dis replied with a smirk as she tugged off her second boot and tossed it callously over a shoulder. "You know how I feel about ceremonies. And as I expected, the look on your face just now was totally worth the extra effort to evade you."

From behind, Bilbo couldn't see Thorin's face, but he could imagine it settling into the expression that normally meant heads would roll. Dis burst out laughing.

"Now there's the little brother I remember," she said, leaping to her feet. "I see that winning back our mountain hasn't helped you unclench at all." She stepped forward and embraced him, her hands clasped tightly across his back before giving his spine a good hard slap. As she pulled away, her eyes settled on to the rest of the group still huddled behind him.

"What's this?" Dis asked, raising her eyebrows at Bilbo and then raising them even more at Tauriel. "Are we starting some sort of embassy here, Thorin?"

"No, Dis," Thorin said, beckoning Bilbo forward. "This is Bilbo Baggins."

"Ah, the burglar who accompanied you on the quest!" Dis exclaimed, her eyes turning to him with a keener edge. "What's he still doing here, then? Haven't you paid him yet?"

"I should expect Mister Baggins to be with us for some time," Thorin said. Bilbo turned to watch him because it was easier than looking at Dis, only to find a queer expression on Thorin's face. His eyes were just a little too wide, his teeth set a little too hard.

When no further words were forthcoming, Dis inclined her head. "And why is that? I’d imagine he’s just as eager to return to his home as we were to return to ours.”

The silence drew out even further. Bilbo glanced between Thorin and Dis, butterflies dancing in his stomach as he waited for Thorin to reveal the truth. He wished he could reach out and take Thorin’s hand (or perhaps give him a pointed nudge in the ribs), but Thorin had insisted this was something he needed to do himself. And yet

“Kili,” Thorin said at last, his voice slightly too loud. “Perhaps it’s time that you introduce your mother to Tauriel.”

Kili’s mouth fell open ever so slightly, eyes darting between Thorin and Tauriel with a hint of panic. Bilbo’s heart began to sink. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go at all.

“Right,” Kili said. “Of course. Mother, this is Tauriel.” He gently prodded Tauriel forward, whose carefully neutral face had also taken on a nervous cast. Dis raised an eyebrow at the elf, clearly unimpressed.

“So I heard,” she replied. “What exactly is she doing here, then?”

Kili froze. He was smiling in a way that looked like two invisible fingers were propping up the sides of his mouth, and his eyes held an expression that was almost close to panic. He opened his mouth. He closed it again. Dis raised her eyebrows. And then, something happened.

Kili’s face flickered between doubt, his hands clenching at his side, his words backing up in his throat. Bilbo stared at him in expectation, waiting for the final pronouncement. "Tauriel is my…" Kili began weakly.

Dis lowered her chin and gave her son a meaningful look. "Your what, Kili?"

Bilbo had never seen him like this. He was practically stuttering. "She’s my—I mean, when I say _my_ , I mean…" He laughed nervously. He patted his thighs nervously, as if wiping down habitually sweaty palms. All at once, a manic gleam sprung up in Kili’s eyes. _Oh no._ In a brief moment of horror, Bilbo realized what was about to happen. Kili only ever looked like that when he was about to do something incredibly stupid. Bilbo stepped forward, mouth opening to save the situation before whatever Kili had just cooked up was released into the world. But he was a second too late.

“She’s our cook.”

The silence that fell in the room dropped like a solid chunk of stone. All eyes were on Kili, Dis’s skeptical, everyone else’s disbelieving. The words that Bilbo had been about to speak completely fled his mind. Everyone was frozen in between shock and horror, with nothing to do but watch the damage unfold.

Dis stared between Kili and Tauriel in incredulity. "Your cook. Really."

"Yes, in fact she is," Kili said, gaining speed and confidence borne from passing the point of no return. “She does a fantastic stew. Really, to die for.” Tauriel, whose eyes had only gotten wider since Kili’s announcement, hoisted a strained smile under Dis’s scrutiny. Bilbo could see her debating whether to say something, but really, what could she say?

“And what happened to Bombur?” Dis asked, raising an eyebrow. “Surely there is no shortage of qualified people to staff the kitchens.”

“Oh, you’ve never tried Tauriel’s cooking,” Kili said with panicked eagerness. “She’s just—really amazing. She cooks so many things. Good, real food.”

"And what exactly do you specialize in?" Dis said, turning back to Tauriel at last.

Bilbo could see the panic racing in her eyes as she frantically thought back on what constituted a normal Dwarven meal. "Meat dishes, mostly," she managed at last.

"Meat dishes," Dis repeated. She turned to Thorin. “You approved of this?”

Thorin stared at his sister, scarcely able to mask his confusion. “…Yes?” he said at last.

Dis stared at him for a moment more before nodding slowly. “Well then. I never expected my brother to willingly house an elf under his own roof. Times truly are changing.” Her eyes once again shifted to Bilbo, then back to Kili. “And I suppose that you have an explanation for his presence here, as well?”

Kili’s smile didn’t budge an inch, but his eyes were wild. “Of course,” he said. “Er. I can certainly explain. That is to say, Bilbo is— Um.” He stared at Thorin imploringly. But Thorin looked no better off than his nephew—his eyes were only marginally calmer. Bilbo could practically hear the gears frantically turning in Thorin's head. Oh sweet Mahal, Bilbo nearly groaned, this was going to be bad.

Dis’s eyes flew between Thorin and Kili, leaning forward expectably. “Well? Is there something you want me to know?”

“I’m getting there,” Kili protested. “Bilbo is Thorin’s…ah…” He turned to Thorin, eyes begging for help.

All eyes in the room followed, fixing Thorin with an expectant stare. Dis glanced between Thorin, Kili, and Bilbo, her eyebrows raising incredulously by the second. Thorin's face flickered between doubt and anxiety, his hands clenching at his side, his words visibly backing up in his throat. _Oh no_. He knew that look. It was the look Thorin always got before he did something really, terribly stupid.

“Well?” she demanded. “Is no one going to tell me why this—”

“Body…guard,” Thorin blurted out. As soon as the word left his lips his shoulders seemed to slump. “Bilbo is my… bodyguard.”

Bilbo’s stared at him, dumbfounded, his mouth dropping open and a hundred contradictions lining up on his tongue. None of them made it out of his mouth. He merely gaped at Thorin, stock-still, wondering how this had gotten so horribly out of hand. Thorin had that look on his face when he had made a decision and was going to stick to it, jaw set, brows drawn together. That was not a good look at all.

“Your bodyguard.” Dis stared at Bilbo, her eyes skimming his admittedly less-than-formidable form. "He doesn't look like much of a fighter," she said. She stood up, padding on bare feet to pace around Bilbo not unlike Thorin had done that first night in Bag End. Bilbo instantly bristled.

“Now hang on a minute—” Dis paused in front of him, amusement twisting her lips. Bilbo cut himself off, realizing the path he was about to go down. He ought to simply agree. Say he’s no good at combat, hardly seen any of it in fact, what use did he really serve on the quest anyways? No need to go digging himself in deeper.

 _Oh, to hell with it._ "I'll have you know, I've participated in every battle, skirmish, and argument that Thorin has on this quest," Bilbo snapped. "And to top that off, I did it without nearly getting myself killed."

A gleam had sprung up in Dis's eyes. "I'd argue that Thorin almost getting killed would be a lapse in duty on your part."

"Well I wasn't on duty then, was I Thorin?" Bilbo said with a meaningful look which Thorin ignored.

"Yes, he's very sturdy," Thorin said, grasping at straws.

Bilbo spluttered. "Sturdy?!" His exclamation went unnoticed.

Dis settled back down into her chair, slowly shaking her head. “Things have gone very odd around here, brother. I have to admit, I’m concerned.”

“I assure you I have everything under control,” Thorin protested. “There’s no need for your—intervention.”

Dis grinned. “Not a fan of my expertise? Fear not, brother. I only plan to observe. There’s to be a feast tomorrow night, correct?”

With a faint air of misery, Kili and Thorin nodded.

“Good,” Dis said. “I will have a chance to sample this elf’s seemingly-amazing cooking them. Until then, Thorin, I hope you and your friend will show me around Erebor after I’ve taken my rest.” There was something in the way she said ‘friend’ that made it seem as if ‘little’ was tacked on in front of it.

“Very good, sister,” Thorin said, in a way that implied the opposite.

“You don’t need to worry anymore, brother," Dis said. “I’m here to help.”  

The smile creeping over her face suggested the exact opposite.

 

 

 

There was something about the silence in the room that resisted all attempts to disturb it. Or perhaps it wasn’t the silence, but instead the fact that over half of the people in the room currently had their head in their hands, or their fingers pinched on their brow. The only noise in the room came from Bilbo, who was making tea the most passive-aggressive pot of tea Tauriel had ever witnessed, pausing occasionally to mutter something under his breath and cram a biscuit into his mouth. No one seemed to want to speak first. Tauriel was not going to be the first.

At last, Bilbo turned around, a massive cup of tea in one hand and a tin of biscuits in the other. He didn’t offer to share as he trooped over to his customary chair beside Tauriel, sank down into it, and gave a short nod.

“So,” he said, his voice dry enough to make Tauriel’s mouth feel parched. “I’m Thorin’s bodyguard. And Tauriel is our head chef. You know, I really think I would have noticed when I was hired as an expert swordsman, but oh, silly me,” he said with a chuckle that could have turned his tea cold, “us little hobbits can be so forgetful.”

The silence that followed could have shattered. Tauriel slowly turned to Kili, a single eyebrow raised. “You do realize I can’t cook.”

Kili merely groaned. He had scarcely raised his head from his hands ever since they’d walked out of Dis’s new chambers.

“Does anyone want to explain what exactly happened back there?” Fili chimed in. He seemed to be the only one largely unaffected. But of course he was. He was the only one who hadn’t made a complete fool of himself.

Kili groaned again for a moment, making as if to raise his head then letting it fall back down again. “I panicked.”

“That’s an understatement,” Fili muttered.

“I just couldn’t do it,” Kili said tearfully. “Mother was just looking at me, and I thought about what she might say, and I…” Kili’s head shot up, turning to Thorin with a sudden look of reproach. “Well wasn’t Thorin supposed to tell Dis first?!” he demanded. “I was put on the spot! You all know what happens when I’m put on the spot!”

“That’s an excellent point, Kili,” Bilbo said with tooth-aching sweetness. His head rotated to fix Thorin with a stare. “Would you like to chime in on why you saw fit to throw our careful plan to the winds, Thorin?”

“I don’t know, Bilbo,” Thorin said, fixing the hobbit with a scathing look. “If you were so upset, why take the time to emphasize what a good fighter you are rather than telling the truth?”

“How dare you!” Bilbo snarled. “Firstly, I _am_ a perfectly good warrior, thank you very much. Secondly, what would you have me or Tauriel do? Say to Dis’s face that her son and brother were lying to her face, we actually want to join your family!” He threw his hands up in the air. “It’s bad enough that Kili botched it, but that at least wasn’t entirely surprising—no offense, Kili—”

“None taken,” Kili said sadly. “I often rely on people’s low expectations.”

“—But you, Thorin?” Bilbo looked Thorin with a look that was equally reproaching and disappointed. “I thought I could rely on you to at least not make things _worse_. What were you thinking?”

Thorin looked as if he were going to retort in anger, before deflating like a punctured water skin. “…I also panicked,” he said at last.

Bilbo pressed his hand to his forehead, sighing through his nose. “You know, sometimes I forget that you and your nephews are related. This is not one of those times.”

“That’s not exactly fair,” Fili said. “I, for one, conducted myself perfectly.”

Kili’s foot made contact with his brother’s shin, earning a sharp yelp and another bout of sullen silence.

Tauriel turned to Kili before a fresh argument could erupt. “Did it ever cross your mind that Bilbo is a perfectly capable cook, and I have hundreds of years of weapons training under my belt?” Tauriel said gently.

Kili stared down at his hands in his lap. “I was thinking you were good at fighting, and Bilbo good at cooking and I sort of… swapped them in my head.”

Tauriel nodded slowly. “Ah. An easy enough mistake to make.”

Kili perked up. “You really think so?”

Tauriel paused. “…Well, no. Not really.” Kili shrugged dejectedly. Tauriel wanted to reach out, take his hand and comfort him, but it felt as if a vast gulf had opened up between them that a single touch couldn’t close.

Bilbo seemed caught up in his own head, muttering sporadically under his breath. “All we had to do was tell her the truth,” he said louder. “It was a fairly straightforward plan. Foolproof, one might think. Unless of course you’d met anyone in this blasted family, of course.”

“Come on, everyone,” Fili said cheerfully. “Let’s try and think of a solution to all of this.”

“Oh, now you want to help,” Thorin grumbled. “As opposed to just standing there silently like you were with Dis.”

Fili glared at him. “Well if you had taken a leaf from my book, you wouldn’t be so deep into this mess.”

“There may be a simple answer,” Tauriel spoke up over the argument. Several pairs of weary eyes turned in her direction. “Why not just explain the situation? We can just tell Dis that this was a misunderstanding.”

Thorin stared at Tauriel for a brief moment before shaking his head. “No.”

“Um.” Tauriel glanced at Kili for support. Kili only stared blankly with a shrug. “What do you mean, no?”

“I mean, we can’t simply walk up to Dis, say ‘sorry sister, we lied to your face about the elf and the hobbit, they are in fact our consorts and we intend to marry them, apologies for the confusion?’ And you truly believe she would give us her blessing after that?” Thorin shook his head. “No. We have no choice but to play this out, at least for a little while. We make Dis think there was no lie, or we risk her condemning us outright.”

“What are you proposing we do, then?” Bilbo demanded. “Keep up the charade for as long as Dis is alive, and pray that she doesn’t outlive us?”

“We only need a short amount of time to convince her of the truth, then quietly remove Bilbo and Tauriel from her presence,” Thorin said eagerly. “And once enough time has passed, we can come forward and tell her that we’ve fallen for our ex-chef and ex-bodyguard as if no lie has ever happened.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Bilbo snapped. “Tauriel’s right. We need to just be upfront, and tell her the truth.”

Thorin crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. “Fine then. If that’s the best option, why don’t you be the one to tell her?”

A long silence drew out. Bilbo coughed, shifted awkwardly. No one seemed to meet anyone else’s eye.

“Alright,” Tauriel said miserably. “Who wants to teach me how to cook something?”

 

 

 

 

“I still can’t believe we’re actually doing this,” Bilbo grumbled. The armor he wore was heavy and stiff and hard to move in, and it poked him under his arms. The mithril shirt gleamed under a boiled leather breastplate, carved with geometric designs which Bilbo couldn’t have guessed the purpose of. He wore gloves, and pads on his shoulders. He kept tugging at them uncomfortably until Thorin swatted his hands away.

As much as he might complain, Bilbo was still having a hard time convincing himself that the events of the previous afternoon had actually come to pass. He had Thorin had not spoken much since their conversation directly afterwards—Bilbo had spent the night alone, lying in bed until the deepest hours of the night listening to Thorin’s faint movements from the other room. He knew that most of the reason Thorin kept away was guilt, but he knew that stubbornness and a refusal to apologize was a good part of it too.

So he had stayed in bed, crossing his arms over his chest and wondering how they were going to get themselves out of this mess. He had thought that by this time he and Thorin would be officially engaged, having won over Dis’s approval without any problems. But of course, nothing was ever so easy. Especially with this family.

Thorin straightened the mithril shirt beneath Bilbo’s armor, his expression as undecipherable as Bilbo had found it on the first leg of the journey to Erebor. “All you need to do is stand there, and look marginally intimidating,” Thorin said.

Bilbo gestured down at himself. “Easier said than done. I look ridiculous.”

Thorin stepped back, inspected him with a critical eye. Bilbo could see the softness flit over his features, the beginning of a joke or a compliment forming on his tongue—but then Thorin merely shook his head. “It will do.”

Bilbo looked away, frustration mingling with hurt in his chest. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. But this mess was largely Thorin’s fault to begin with, and if he refused to so much as apologize then Bilbo wouldn’t do it for him. He squared his shoulders under the heavy armor, already feeling his muscles begin to twinge.

Thorin watched him closely, placing a hesitant hand on his shoulder. “You’ll do fine. Just answer Dis’s questions with whatever seems believable. You should be good at that.”

Bilbo raised a wry eyebrow. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You managed to lie to a dragon. My sister is… not so bad. Probably.”

“I might also add that the dragon then went on to burn down all of Laketown,” Bilbo commented.

Thorin shrugged. “At least this time you won’t have to actually do any fighting,” he said.

“Ah yes, just a lot of lying—sticking to my strengths,” Bilbo said with only a touch of bitterness.

Thorin paused. He looked down, shaking his head slowly. Genuine regret was etched into his face. “Bilbo, I—”

“Ah, brother dear,” a voice drifted from the edge of the corridor. Dis strode towards them, her guards at her side, a wide smile splitting her face. Bilbo saw whatever Thorin had been about to say die behind his eyes. He straightened up, his expression hard, and turned to face his sister’s grin. It grew only wider when she saw Bilbo at his side.

“I see you’ve brought your faithful companion,” she said. “Suitably dressed this time.”

Bilbo forced a quiet smile as Thorin’s grip settled on his shoulder. “Shall we go?” he said, voice a little cooler than necessary. “There are many changes to the city since you might last remember it. We had best hurry if we’re to see them all.”

“But of course,” Dis replied. She stepped forward to take Thorin’s arm, leaving Bilbo to walk a few paces behind. Dis’s two guards took up a station behind him, their presence at his back making him more than a little nervous. The jangle of sword and daggers on his belt was unwieldy and unfamiliar.

Thorin did a good job of holding his sister’s attention, showing her the places where the damage the dragon had done was being repaired. Dis had a lot to say about the gold-plated throne room, none of it good. But it wasn’t enough—by the way her eyes would occasionally flick to Bilbo with a spark of humor, he knew a confrontation was inevitable.

Bilbo couldn’t help but notice that Dis wore her own sword, as well as keeping guards. She did not seem hampered by it the way that Bilbo did. He supposed that her life had been no easier than Thorin’s, and she’d had plenty of opportunity to use it. Her guards were silent, except for the occasional murmur amongst themselves in Khuzdul. Bilbo could only hope that none of it was about him. He hadn’t felt this self-conscious in a long time.

“I have to say, brother,” Dis said as they concluded the tour. “Of all the surprises and oddities in our home, you’ve yet to address one of the strangest.” Her eyes settled back on Bilbo, perhaps noting his less-than-athletic physique, or perhaps just the fact that he was nearly a full head smaller than her.

Thorin was quick to defend him. “Bilbo has more than proved his mettle throughout—”

“Oh shush Thorin, he can speak for himself,” she said good-naturedly. “You do speak, don’t you?” she asked Bilbo with raised eyebrows.

Bilbo squared his shoulders, resisting the urge to glare. “When the feeling strikes, yes.”

Dis chuckled. "So, you protect my brother," she said. "Tell me, what is it exactly you're protecting him from?"

Bilbo squired his shoulders. "Have you met him?" he asked wryly. "It's enough of a job to protect him from himself."

For a moment he worried that Dis was going express some dwarvish and undoubtedly violent form of offense. She did not. She burst out laughing.

"Oh, I knew I liked you," she said once she had gotten control of herself. “What exactly do you do for Thorin?”

“Good question,” Bilbo began, mind racing. “I… keep an eye out for potential threats. Test the food before he eats it, that sort of thing.” Internally he congratulated himself. Eating a few extra portions was easily in his capacity.

“That’s all well and good,” Dis said, her eyes travelling to the sword at Bilbo’s belt, “but do you actually know how to use that thing? I’m not questioning you, of course,” she said with a grin suggesting she was doing just that. “I just want to be sure my brother is being well looked after.”

“I fought in the battle to defend Erebor,” Bilbo replied, a little uneasily. The fact that he had spent a good deal of it unconscious wasn’t entirely relevant information. “And I think I did a pretty good job of ensuring the Company wasn’t eaten by spiders or trolls, at that.”

“It sounds like you’ve seen your fair share of blood,” Dis said with a grin Bilbo didn’t entirely like. “Do you mind if I administer a little test?”

“Erm.” Bilbo had a very bad feeling about this. “…no?”

In the breadth of a second Dis’s sword was in her hand and swinging towards Bilbo with nothing more than a hiss of air. With a yelp he dove out of the way, hearing it whisk through the empty air at his side as he moved. He fumbled out his own sword just in time to block a second blow, his body stiff yet quick to remember the movements which had saved his life just months before. Dis’s blows came quickly, yet he could feel she was holding back—testing him. He was driven backwards so quickly he nearly tripped over his feet, but still he managed to keep his guard up.  

And then Thorin was between them, yanking his sister away with a bellow in Khuzdul. “Enough!” he cried in Westron. “You could have hurt him!”

“I think I was holding my own,” Bilbo managed, not so shocked out of breath that he didn’t feel a twinge of annoyance.

“Peace, brother,” Dis said with a laugh, sliding her sword back into its sheath. “You said I had full reign to question your guard here.”

“That was before you started hacking at my—bodyguard,” Thorin finished lamely. He took a short breath, drawing himself up. “Bilbo has not only proven himself every day of the quest, he is the only reason I am standing here today. If he hadn’t saved me from Azog’s lackeys—“

“Yes, I’ve heard the story,” Dis said with a wave of her hand. “I’m well aware of what a little hero your Halfling is. I’m sure you’re in good hands. Or at least, good enough.”

Thorin stared at her blankly. “If you knew, then why…”

Dis tweaked her brother on the nose, her grin stretching from ear to ear. “Perhaps because I wanted to annoy you, brother dear.” Before Thorin could respond, she turned and walked back in the directions of her own guards, who had been lingering on the periphery watching the scene with little reaction. Perhaps Dis randomly attacking innocent bystanders was the norm. Once Bilbo’s heart stopped pounding he’d have to give that some thought.

“You had better go get ready for the feast tonight,” she called over her shoulder. “I expect it to be the homecoming I’ve always dreamed of.”

Dis disappeared around the corner without another word. When Bilbo looked back to Thorin he was pinching the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed tightly shut. “Are you alright?” he said.

“I’ve had worse,” Bilbo said lightly. It was hard not to feel a swell of affection at Thorin’s commendations on his behalf, at least until he remembered that Thorin had gotten them into this situation in the first place. Bilbo shuffled his feet, cleared his throat. “At least all we have to get through now is dinner.”

Thorin nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Should be easy.”

“Indeed.”

“…I am, however, slightly terrified about it.”

“Oh, me as well.”

Bilbo bobbed his head, his mouth set. “Wonderful. On to the next crisis, then.”

 

 

 

 

“We’ll start you off with the basics.”

Tauriel stared blankly at the tools set out in front of her. Bits of metal with strange twists and jagged edges that she could scarcely have guessed the purpose of glinted on the table in the kitchens. There were dozens of different forks and about a hundred different knives, a sight which might not normally have phased her but now set her heart into palpitations. She could have easily guessed at how each tool could be used to kill a rampaging spider; their real purpose was completely beyond her.

Bombur stood before her, his arms crossed over his broad chest, ruddy complexion all the redder from the heat of the ovens. His apron was covered with flour, and in the background of the kitchen may other dwarves were still sweating over the ovens in preparation for the feast tonight. It was scorching in the kitchens, and Tauriel felt as if she might faint right into one of the pastries. But that might have not been solely because of the heat. Kili stood somewhere behind her, resolutely quiet yet watching their progress carefully.

“This is a meat tenderizer,” he began, pointing at a hammer with spikes on the end. “The little forks here are for sampling to see if a dish is done.” Tauriel nodded, taking a breath. That was fairly obvious. Perhaps this wouldn’t be so bad.

“Next you have your root peeler, your nutcracker, your mollusk-shuck—don’t confuse it with the corn-shuck—your three-legged pot, your _four_ legged pot, your fry pan, your roast pan, your…” Tauriel’s eyes began to go out of focus, the tools in front of her blurring. She’d lived for centuries, and in all that time she’d never seen fit to learn much of anything about cooking. She was starting to regret that now.

“Did you get all that?” Bombur’s eyebrows were raised expectantly.

Tauriel stared at Bombur blankly, her face so slack with confusion it might have slid to the floor. “No. I don’t think I got any of that.”

Bombur sighed in aggravation, tugging at the braid slung over his body. Even the typically jovial cook was reaching the end of his rope. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered. “I’ve been cooking for my entire life. I should just do it.”

“I’m sorry, Bombur,” Kili said beseechingly. “We just have to make it convincing. Just for a little while.”

Bombur rolled his eyes, turning back to Tauriel. “All you need to do is retain enough information so that if Dis questions you about a dish, you can give her a reasonably intelligent answer.”

Tauriel squared her shoulders. “Very well. Tell me again about the… basting brush.”

Bombur squinted at her dubiously. “Aren’t elves supposed to be good at cooking?”

“Most of my meals end up skewered over a fire in the woods,” Tauriel retorted. “And I thought dwarves were just supposed to throw a slab of meat on a plate and eat it.”

“A common mistake,” Bombur said, his eyes brightening. “We dwarves are some of the finest cooks in the land. Historically speaking, we’ve had the most variety in our dishes since…” he trailed off on seeing Tauriel and Kili’s expressions start to glaze. “Just because we favor meat dishes doesn’t mean we don’t do them _right_ ,” he finished grumpily.

At once Fili hurried into the room, dodging around the bowls and platters being hoisted from counter to counter. “I’ve just spoken with the rest of the company,” he said quickly. “They all know what to expect.”

“You’re going to want to keep Bofur as far from Dis as possible,” Bombur observed. “He’s bound to try and muck things up for the fun of it.”

Tauriel couldn’t repress a groan as she covered her face in her hands. She couldn’t believe she had thought things could go smoothly. A hand on her arm guided her to a quieter corner of the kitchen away from prying eyes, where Kili settled her into a chair and met her eyes with a weak smile. Tauriel returned it after a moment, covering his hand with her own.

“I’m so sorry, Tauriel,” he said quietly. “I never meant to put you through this.”

“I know you didn’t,” she said in return. “To be fair, I didn’t exactly help the situation.”

“Perhaps we’re too well matched for each other,” Kili said with a wry smile.

Taurie’s smile dissolved. She looked away, lacing her hands neatly in her lap. “Kili,” she began. “I have to ask… I know you were concerned about your mother’s reaction. In your place, I might not have been able to face it either.” For a moment, she fell silent. Then the words came tumbling out. “Are you ashamed of me? I know this isn’t normal, that perhaps even you find it strange at times, and if that’s the case, I simply want to know.”

“What?” Kili stared at her uncomprehendingly. Before Tauriel could speak he grabbed one of her hands as fervently as he had on the beach. He had given her his mother’s runestone then, a promise that had begun something new. “Tauriel,” Kili said firmly. “If I could, I would go to the highest parapet and shout about how much I love you for all of Erebor to hear.” A smile flitted over Tauriel’s face at that, and Kili reached up to caress one of her dimples with the pad of his thumb. “I would never be ashamed of you. I can’t even think of a single reasonI would be. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever met. Even if you are a little tall.”

Tauriel laughed softly, unable to look away from the softness in Kili’s eyes. She reached out to cup his face, offering him a smile in return. “I will not say I don’t care what your mother thinks of us,” she said. “That would be a lie. I want to be a part of your life, in every way, as I want you a part of mine. But no matter whether we get her blessing, I will love you just as much.”

Kili blinked, a surprised little smile darting over his face before he covered her hand with his own. Tauriel leaned forward to press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You’re still a bit of an idiot, though,” she commented.

“That’s fair.”

She rose to her feet with a smile. “Come on. I’m sure Bombur has something more to tell me about the different kinds of soup spoons if we’re going to pull this off.”

Kili nodded, still holding to a hand. Before she had taken a step, he pulled her back. “I mean it, though,” he said ardently. “As soon as Dis gives us her blessing, I’m going to make sure there’s not a man, dwarf, or elf in Erebor who doesn’t know it.”

Tauriel smiled. “It’s a deal, then.”

Their hands stayed entwined right up until they stepped into the kitchen. Then, before the others would see, Tauriel slowly let him go. It hurt to hide. But she had to believe it wouldn’t last forever.

 

 

 

 

The massive dining hall was packed with dwarves, drinking beer and clamoring good-naturedly for the food to be brought out. Bilbo, Tauriel, and the rest of the Durins sat at a head table near the front of the room. The atmosphere around their table was decidedly gloomy as they waited for Dis to arrive. Bilbo played with one of his spoons, wondering how the other guards managed to wear such heavy armor all the time without dying of suffocation. He felt as if he had been stuffed into an oven. Thorin was staring into space with an expression as if he’d been carved from stone.

Kili wasn’t looking much better. His clear complexion had taken on a greenish tinge, and he was staring down at his empty plate like it might open up to swallow him. When Bilbo had quickly asked him how Tauriel had done on picking up a few odd facts, Kili had only chuckled nervously.  She’d be in the kitchens now, preparing with Bombur to bring the food out. There was an empty place waiting for her—Dis had insisted on it. Bilbo got the distinct feeling that Dis knew something wasn’t right. He doubted she had any idea as to what was really going on.

A moment later a door opened at the other end of the hall, and Dis stepped in with her entourage. Cheers went up from the Blue Mountain dwarves that had accompanied her there, and she greeted some of them warmly as she walked by. It seemed she had won many of their loyalty in her brother’s stead. The head table rose as Dis approached them, grinning broadly and tugging at her braided beard.

“Those are no faces to wear for a feast,” she said, taking in their dour expressions. “Unless your elf’s cooking isn’t as good as you say.”

“It will be quite adequate, I’m sure,” Thorin replied, with a meaningful look at his nephew. “Isn’t that right, Kili?”

Kili only nodded, already looking more than a little nauseous.

As soon as Dis was settled down, the doors flew open again—this time, trolleys loaded with food were wheeled out by the kitchen staff, plates of roasted potatoes and chunks of meat with vegetables heaped around them—sausages and savory cakes and fish caught from the Long Lake. It was almost enough to make Bilbo forget the pit of worry in his stomach. As embarrassing as this dinner could turn out to be, at the very least he would eat well.

Tauriel approached the table with the first cuts of meat, standing in the background as the table was served. Bombur had dug up a large apron for her to wear, which she had tied around her waist and streaked with some oil. Bilbo wouldn’t have been surprised if Bombur hadn’t let her come near any of the actual food in its preparations. Only after all the plates were served did Tauriel take the seat that had been set for her.

Without hesitation Dis began to eat. Bilbo watched her out of the corner of his eye, wondering if she would insult the food only because an elf cooked it. Yet after she took the first bite, she nodded in approval.

“This is better than I would have expected,” she said. “Remarkably similar to traditional dwarvish cooking, in fact.”

“Er. Yes.” Tauriel said, poking at the food on her plate. The woodland elves might not have had their cousin’s disdain for eating meat, but Tauriel looked liable to toss up anything she managed to eat. Bilbo couldn’t blame her.

“Midsummer will be here in a month,” Dis said. “There’s always a great feast in celebration. Will you be preparing our food then as well?”

Tauriel glanced between Kili and Thorin, eyes wide. “—yes. Of course. Why not.”

“Excellent,” Dis said with a smile. “I look forward to using your services for many years to come.”

Tauriel turned a more violent shade of green.

Before Thorin could begin eating his own food, Bilbo caught his wrist. He could scarcely repress a wry smile. “Not so fast. I’m your food taster, remember?” he murmured. Thorin nearly rolled his eyes as Bilbo began helping himself to some of the food on Thorin’s plate. And if Bilbo was still punishing him for getting them into this mess, well. Thorin hadn’t so much as apologized yet. So perhaps that was just what he got.

With a start Bilbo realized Dis was watching him and Thorin with a look that suggested way too much, her eyes dancing between the two of them with a spark Bilbo didn’t like at all.

He immediately pushed Thorin’s plate back to him, coughing. “The food is safe. Probably.” He turned back to his own plate.

“You two seem very close.” Bilbo froze in the act of shoving a piece of potato into his mouth. Dis grinned broadly at the look that crossed Thorin’s face.

“We’re not, actually,” he said offhandedly.

“Oh, not at all,” Bilbo agreed. “Strictly professional relationship. Wouldn’t dream of anything else.”

Thorin glanced at Bilbo. His tone became exaggerated. “He’s fairly irritating, in point of fact. Not at all pleasant to be around.”

“To be frank, I rather hate him,” Bilbo said mildly, stabbing a carrot with a sense of finality before his face could betray something else. Of course, it wasn’t true. Even if in this moment he might have rather been stabbing Thorin in the leg. Gently, of course. Just with just a fork. A sharp fork.

Dis looked between the pair of them, a slow smile dawning on her face. At last she shook her head. “So when’s the marriage?”

Thorin nearly inhaled a gulp of beer he’d been taking, practically coughing a lung out of his chest. Bilbo similarly spluttered, words chasing themselves out of his mouth and cutting off before he could finish a sentence. Dis cut them off with a wave of her hand and a laugh. “Merely a joke, brother dear. You’ve certainly grown jumpy.”

“Ah, yes,” Thorin said quickly. He forced a laugh past his throat that sounded frankly painful. “A joke. Of course. There’s nothing between me and Mister Baggins of course. Don’t worry.”

Dis tilted her head meaningfully. “Is that so? You certainly do seem to get along. And Mahal knows, after all this time you deserve a little happiness.”

This was it. This was the moment to undo it all, to let the truth come out and laugh off all they’d been through in the past few days. But when Bilbo looked to Thorin, his eyes were cast down, his fingers toying with his glass dejectedly.

“No, no,” he said faintly. “Nothing like that at all.”

Bilbo stared at him, hurt and confusion tugging on his windpipe. Thorin simply couldn’t do it. After all they’d been through, he simply couldn’t tell someone the honest truth about their relationship. Bilbo pressed his lips together, then pushed his chair out with a scrape.

“Excuse me a moment,” he muttered, already tossing away his napkin.

“Are you ill?” Dis called after him. “Was the food poisoned after all?”

“The food is fine,” Bilbo said through gritted teeth. He made his way through the hall to an alcove a short distance away, hidden from view from the rest of the hall by a curtain. As soon as Bilbo ducked behind it he leaned against the wall, hands on his hips, and let out a painful sigh. With all that armor on he could hardly breathe. A moment later he was tearing it off, stripping away the vambraces and pauldrons and tossing them on the floor. He didn’t care if Dis asked where his armor had gone. He’d come up with some lie or another. That was the order of the day, after all.

The curtain moved. Thorin appeared, pulling it closed behind him before facing Bilbo with a pained expression. Bilbo stared at him, arms crossed over his chest. “You’re really set on digging us so deep into this lie there’s no getting out, aren’t you?”

Thorin opened his mouth, but no words came out. Bilbo uncrossed his arms, and began viciously undoing the straps on his chest piece. “Is that what you want? If you don’t want to marry me there are easier ways than spinning a web of lies that implicates your entire family, Thorin.”

“You know that’s not the case,” Thorin said, and Bilbo wouldn’t break under the desperation in Thorin’s voice, wouldn’t even look at him.

“Do I know that?” he demanded. “I’m starting to have my doubts.”

“I _want_ to tell the truth, Bilbo!” Thorin said. “It’s just—it isn’t so simple.”

“Oh come on!” Bilbo cried, pointing an accusatory finger. He hoped that the clamor in the hall outside was loud enough, because he didn’t plan on lowering his voice. “You’ve charged into a battle with a near certainty of death, but you’re too afraid to face your own sister?!”

“I’m not afraid of Dis,” Thorin snapped.

Bilbo threw his hands up. “Then what are you afraid of? Just go talk to her, tell her—”

“Bilbo,” Thorin said, and the way he said it made Bilbo stop his tirade. Thorin looked down, his eyes fixed on the floor. “You know I’m not very good at saying the plain things that need to be said.”

“Frankly, I’m amazed you managed to admit your feelings for me in the first place,” Bilbo muttered.

Thorin shook his head with a faint smile. “It seems the more I want something, the harder it is to put it into words. And I suppose I want this. Very badly.” He took a deep breath, as if he could fill his chest and smother the insecurities festering there. “But if Dis does not approve, we’ll find it near impossible to marry. And that frightens me. More than a battle ever could. And for that, I am sorry.”

Thorin turned away. In the darkness behind the curtain, it was hard to see his face. Bilbo’s hand reached out to turn it back towards him.

 “Thorin, I… I want to marry you. But as far as I’m concerned, we haven’t been married up to this point and it hasn’t caused me the slightest inconvenience.” He shrugged. “So, if she says no, as far as I’m concerned, nothing needs to change between us.” He stepped forward, resting a hand on Thorin’s chest with a faint smile. “But if she says yes… well, it would be my pleasure to say farewell to the lies once and for all.”

Thorin smiled. “I would like that.”

Bilbo felt a great swell of affection rising up in his chest. He leaned forward and pressed a quick kiss to Thorin’s lips. “It’s a deal, then.”

“ _Finally_.” Bilbo and Thorin hurriedly leapt apart, but it was too late—Dis was standing with the curtain propped open, leaning against the wall with a smug grin on her face. Beyond her, Bilbo could see Tauriel and Kili grimacing in sympathy. Who knew how long they had been there.

“Dis,” Thorin said, panic widening his eyes.

“My, my, Thorin,” Dis said, shaking her head slowly. “An affair with your bodyguard. That’s a bit trite, don’t you think? Not to mention ill-advised.”

“We were simply—ah—I mean to say—”

Dis raised a hand to cut him off. “Of course, it would only be an issue if Mister Baggins here was, in fact, your bodyguard. Which thankfully, he is not.”

Silence stretched out between them. Thorin glanced from Dis, to Bilbo, and back to Dis again. “What?” Thorin said at last.

“I’m not stupid, brother,” Dis said sweetly. “And gossip travels quickly amongst travelers. I heard a long time ago that you were courting Mister Baggins here.”

Thorin looked to be far beyond words, the tips of his ears slowly going red. It was Bilbo who finally found his voice, as disbelieving as it was.

“…If you already knew, why go along with all of this?” he said.

Dis laughed. “Because my brother was making a real fool of himself, and I always enjoy that.”

“So you’ve known this whole time?” Kili chimed in, poking his head past the curtain with a hopeful expression on his face.

Dis turned to him with a wry smile. “I did say that.”

“And you’re giving your blessing?”

Dis tilted her head, and for a moment Bilbo’s heart seemed to seize in his chest. But then a grin spread across it, and she waved her hand away. “Sorry. I won’t keep you in suspense any longer. I have to say I’m surprised at your choice in consort, Thorin, but to be honest I’m simply pleased you found _anyone_ at this point.”

Thorin’s mouth opened and closed before he managed to stutter out a “Thank you.” Kili had already seized Tauriel’s hand and was looking at her with pure joy. She, on the other hand, had ceased to look incredulous.

“Thank you, mother!” he cried. “This means so much to us!”

Dis turned to him with a frown. “You seem disproportionately happy, my son.”

“How could I not be?” Kili cried. “Tauriel and I have wanted to marry for so long, and—“

Tauriel’s subtle kick to the back of his leg came just a split-second too late.

Bilbo saw Dis’s eyes widen as she glanced between Kili and Tauriel. “You’re telling me… that you and…” she cut herself off. Kili’s face was still frozen in the manic smile he had worn just seconds before. Bilbo resisted the urge to bury his face into his hands.

“You didn’t… know that.” Kili nodded, the smile turning into a grimace. “Right. Well then. Ah. Mother, I’d like to introduce Tauriel. My… intended.”

Tauriel didn’t so much as force a smile this time. She merely inclined her head, her grip on Kili’s shoulder white-knuckled. Dis stared at her with an expression that Bilbo couldn’t decipher, but it didn’t look good.

“How long?” she asked.

Kili’s eyes settled onto the table. “Since before the battle.”

“And you love her?”

This time, Kili looked up. The expression of mortification had fallen away—there was only fervor now. “Yes,” he said, speaking firmly for the first time. “I do.”

Dis nodded slowly, her eyes veiled. She turned back to Tauriel. “And you?” she demanded. “What are your intentions with my son?”

Bilbo saw Tauriel’s throat bob as she swallowed, but her own voice was steady. “Where Kili goes, I will follow. Dwarf or elf, it makes no difference to me. I love him.”

At last, Dis shook her head. “Now _that_ is a surprise,” she muttered. “I should have had more ale for this conversation.” To Tauriel, she sighed. “I suppose you aren’t actually my brother’s chef any more than Mister Baggins is his bodyguard.”

Tauriel shook her head, a tad guiltily. “I am—was, that is—the captain of the Elvish guard in Mirkwood.”

“And you didn’t think to say that _she_ was your bodyguard?” Dis chided Thorin. She threw her hands up with a faint exclamation in Khuzdul. “What is going on in this family? Well, if you were a fool enough to go along with this ridiculousness, I suppose you can’t be too unsuited a match. No matter how strange I find it.”

Kili leaned forward. “…So you are giving your blessing? For real this time?”

“You’d best accept it, before I think the better of it,” Dis warned. She turned to Thorin. “Both of you.”

Kili let out a whoop, then immediately covered his mouth with a hand. Tauriel broke into a wild laugh as Kili kissed the back of her hand. Bilbo felt Thorin’s hand on his own, the warmth of it burning like a brand. Dis turned to Fili with an accusatory finger. “And if there’s some human you’ve been canoodling with behind my back, you best bring them forward now. Might as well complete the set, eh?”

Fili rolled his eyes.

“Wait,” Kili said suddenly. “I need to do something.”

“What could you possibly—” But before Bilbo could finish, Kili had grabbed Tauriel’s hand and was leading her back towards the dining hall at a near-run. Exchanging an apprehensive look with Thorin, the rest of the party followed.

They made it back just in time to see Kili and Tauriel standing at the head table once more, staring deep into each other’s’ eyes with the sort of look that usually caused Thorin to start muttering under his breath. And then Kili was up, standing on a chair and them jumping straight onto the table, narrowly avoiding putting a boot in the turkey pie. Tauriel was laughing, a hand covering her mouth.

“Attention, everyone!” Kili bellowed. Any who weren’t already laughing and staring at his antics quickly turned to face him. Kili had a wild smile on his face as he raised his hands. “I’m afraid I have a promise to keep.” He turned back to Tauriel, held out a hand. After a moment she stepped forward and took it, her expression turning shy.

“Many of you know Tauriel,” Kili shouted over the faint murmurs in the hall. “But few of you know her truly—know her bravery, her kindness, her strength. Not to mention she may be the only person better with a bow than me.” From the back of the room someone shouted, “There’s loads of us better, Kili!” to the laughter of all around him. Kili waved him off with a grin.

“But I know,” Kili said, looking back into Tauriel’s eyes. “I also know that she kicks when she sleeps, and sometimes acts as if she’s still hunting in the forest far from any form of civilization—but what can I say. That’s why I fell in love with her.”

The hush that fell over the hall stirred with whispers of confusion, the dwarves in the audience sharing surprised glances, some mutters of dissent. For a moment Bilbo was afraid, hand reaching for Thorin before he could stop himself. Fili was burying his face in his hand, muttering “He’s so embarrassing.” Yet when Bilbo looked to Dis, she had a strange expression on her face—softer than Bilbo had ever seen.

Kili wasn’t afraid. He only pulled Tauriel closer. When he turned back to the crowd, an enormous grin had split his face. He raised both their hands.

“Do you hear me, Erebor? I love this woman! And we’re getting married!”

A single howl of approval sounded from near the back of the room. An incredibly drunk Bofur, a tankard in each hand, was already clambering onto his own table. “YOU SAY IT, KILI!” he bellowed, clanking his mugs together and sloshing ale over half the guests around him. “YOUR LOVE IS BEAUTIFUL!” Hesitant laughter broke the deathly silence that had fallen. Before long the rest of the company had stood up and joined in the cheer, and others followed their lead. Many looked as if they were incredulous ever as they applauded, but they smiled all the same. Bilbo felt himself relaxing even as Thorin’s thumb rubbed over the back of his hand. Perhaps it would be alright. If Kili and Tauriel could find acceptance, surely so could they.

“Damn it,” Thorin quietly at Bilbo’s side. When Bilbo shot him a questioning glance, he gave a half-shrug. “Kili beat me to it.”

“If you got up on table and started talking like that I would have tackled you off,” Bilbo warned, meaning it entirely.

Thorin chuckled in response, slowly shaking his head. “I wish Kili could have spoken so well at the beginning of this whole mess,” Thorin muttered, but there was a small smile on his lips all the same.

“But think of all the fun we wouldn’t have had,” Bilbo said wryly.

Thorin took his hand, his palms rough and warm against Bilbo’s. “Do you still have the ring I gave you?” he said quietly.

Bilbo fished into his pocket, feeling the cold metal circle there. He dug it out and showed it to Thorin in the center of his palm with a half-smile. “I always keep it with me. Just in case.”

“Well now might be the time it finally comes in handy.” Thorin picked it off of Bilbo’s palm and slid it onto Bilbo’s finger. It fit perfectly—of course it did. Thorin had made it himself. It was a gaudy thing in truth. All the times Bilbo had tried it on when they were alone and had nothing to fear, it had never looked so beautiful.

“…We’re still not married, right?” Bilbo said after a moment. “I don’t really understand how dwarf customs work.”

“No, no,” Thorin said with a quiet laugh. “I assure you, once we’ve been officially wed you’ll know about it. But now…” Thorin pulled a chain out of his tunic to reveal his own ring. He tugged it free with a single gesture and slid it onto his own finger. “Now everyone else will know about it as well.”

Bilbo reached out to take Thorin’s hand, feeling the ring there. It fit him well. Bilbo could easily get used to it.

On the table still, Kili was downing a pint of ale with Tauriel as general merriment broke out in the crowd. Kili slammed the empty tankard down on the table with a laugh. Then he turned around and pulled Tauriel into a kiss. A very deep kiss.

“Oh, well that’s—yes, I suppose that’s alright,” Bilbo said, his eyes growing wider by the passing second. “Alright, that’s—they really shouldn’t—Thorin, should we—”

“Get him off the table,” Thorin said grimly, already stalking forward.

Bilbo moved to follow with a laugh, but a hand on his elbow stopped him. He turned back to find Dis looking at him, a quiet smile on her lips.

“My brother has lived an ill-fated life. I’m sure you know that by now.” Bilbo nodded. Dis’s eyes pierced right through him. “Do you believe you and he will be happy?”

Bilbo smiled faintly, looking down and touching the ring around his finger. “I think we have a decent shot.”

Dis smiled. Something in her seemed to be satisfied. “Good,” she said sincerely. She gave Bilbo a nudge in the ribs which nearly toppled him over. “Then let’s go help him get my fool son off the table.”

Bilbo was all too happy to comply.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Find me and more of my work [on tumblr](http://curmudgeony.tumblr.com).


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